


After the War

by thelovelylydia



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, game of thrones
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 07:32:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1810348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelovelylydia/pseuds/thelovelylydia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Collision of Fire and Ice, Sansa and Tyrion are reunited, but struggle for happiness. Can the two find a way to move past their memories and find their way to joy? Very lemony. Spoilers for season 4 finale!</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the War

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ipr88](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ipr88).



> This fict is a big thank you to ipr88 who has been such an encouragement and awesome support through DTC and my life in general. It's very lemony and sad and yeah. It also takes place after like all the A Song of Ice and Fire planned events- I am assuming. So I guess it's AU-y? Anyways, I hope you enjoy! And thank you so much ipr88, you are so awesome! - Lydia

After the Clash of Ice and Fire, or what the men were apt to call the war which had just ended between Daenarys Targaryen and the Northern forces led by her bastard brother, Jon Snow, Sansa Stark was taken to Casterly Rock. She had been returned to her lord husband, Tyrion Lannister, after he had returned to a changed Westeros. King Stannis had granted the two Casterly Rock as a kindness to Sansa and her family

Casterly Rock was much smaller and warmer than the halls of Winterfell and the winter which had chilled the castles of the Eyrie and the Vale. She had remained as Petyr's bastard daughter until he had convinced royal forces to take up arms behind the lost Stark girl. Not long after Sansa had shed her disguise did Bran emerge from the wilds of the North with her great uncle Brynden Tully, and Sansa lost all hope of ever organizing her own army. She was conglomerated with Bran in an effort to take back Winterfell. When Tyrion had returned to the west she had been given the opportunity to put him away or to take him up as her lord husband and heir to Casterly Rock. He had confessed that she was a maiden, she had not yet slept with any man, including himself, and that he would release her from her marriage bonds. What the dwarf did not know and what Sansa did was that his life would be taken from him if she decided she did not wish to remain with the Lannister, so she saved his life as he had saved hers many times.

Their marriage was as awkward and unassured as it was when they were in the halls of King's Landing. He was even more distant and distracted; she was tormented and timid, afraid to stand up to him and remaining his complacent and compliant wife. This only bothered him more deeply, sending him back into his spiral of aloof caring, and her back to her accepting position.

Tonight they ate in their bedroom, normally the two took supper in the dining hall, but Tyrion had a headache and wanted to be far away from the staring subjects and duties of lords. He sat before her now at the intimate table, eating pease from the plate with his fork, his green eyes kept on his plate and far from her gaze. She watched as he scooped up the round vegetables and shoving them quickly into his mouth so they did not fall off his utensil. She could not help but giggle at little in the awkwardness.

"Does something amuse you, my lady?" Tyrion's voice was filled with annoyance and frustration.

"I was just thinking of one of the many dinners we had in King's Landing," Sansa's smile faded as she ran her fingers over the utensils she had not yet touched.

"I am sure those are humorous and beautiful memories," his sarcasm was painful. Sansa shook her head.

"I am just laughing because the whole situation is uncomfortable. Have you noticed that people tend to laugh when they have nothing else to say?"

"Perhaps," he looked up at her underneath his hooded brow.

"I was reminded of the day before the Roya…Joffrey's wedding when we had pease and I was not in the mood to eat, and you kept asking me if the pease were bad." She looked down at the pile of them on her own plate. "You kept asking me if they were burnt and did I need them taken back and more pease made? And you were so focused on the pease that…you did not realize that the true problem was with me." Sansa's uncomfortable smile turned into an open mouth, silent scream as her tears began to water her cheeks. She held her arms with her hands, leaning forward as she gasped for breath, her nose running.

"No, Sansa." Tyrion's voice was low and soothing. She heard him stand, his footsteps coming closer. "I never thought the problem was with the pease. I just wanted you to _say something_." He was by her side now, his hand reaching out to touch her arm.

"I did not know what to say, I was so scared—" she turned in her chair to look at him.

"Oh, Sansa." Tyrion opened his arms to her and she tumbled off her chair to her knees and into his arms. She wanted something to hold, something to hold her close and keep her far from the men who preyed on her.

"I wish I could say something then, I wish I knew what to say to you," she heaved as she tried to talk through her sobs.

"Sansa, you can say anything to me now," Tyrion said, his hand rubbing her back, his lips pressing into her temple.

"Why are you so far from me? Why can we not be happy together?" Sansa asked. "I just want for some happiness. There are no knights or maidens fair, I know, but after all that damned violence, can I just smile for one moment?" She was not asking him anymore. She was pleading to the gods who seemed to show her no mercy despite her victory in the game of thrones.

"Sansa," Tyrion kissed her cheek again, "I am alive because of you. I owe you more than you could ever imagine. I want to be a part of your happiness."

"I do not even know if I love you," Sansa felt cruel for saying so. "I knew my mother and my father and I knew that they loved one another very much."

"And do you think that it started out that way, my foolish young wife?" Tyrion had pulled away from her, his hands on her shoulders. "Did you think that Catelyn Tully fell deeply and quickly for quiet and calm Eddard Stark after being betrothed to Brandon Stark?"  
"I always imagined so," Sansa sighed. "I am still stuck in my little girl dreams and wishes."

"You are not a little girl, Sansa." He let go of one of her shoulders to run his fingers through her red hair. "You are Lady Lannister, the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms and beyond. You say there are no maidens fair, but I assure you that I am the bear since I am married to you."

Sansa felt her cheeks redden. He was not the most handsome of men, but she had come to appreciate the little kindness he still possessed. There was much about their months apart which they had not spoken of, something that had changed his naïve and emotion driven tendencies.

"I am not sure that you are the most monstrous,"

"Sansa, I killed my father."

"And he wanted you dead. You did him a kindness by killing him so quickly," Sansa tried to reason with him. It was not untrue; Tywin Lannister would have suffered much longer under the stern hand of Stannis Baratheon.

"I killed my paramour, Sansa, my whore, the woman I loved, with my bare hands." He let go of her shoulders completely, his small stubby hands wrapping around her long pale neck. "I took that chain and I strangled her because she was in his bed. She had stood trial and marked me a dead man, and then crawled into my father's bed and fucked him." He leaned forward, Sansa gulped against his firm grip. He loosened his fingers, placing a wet kiss on his neck. "Will you fuck me, Sansa?"

"Of course, my lord." Sansa nodded her head. She had been bedded by Tyrion soon after they were remarried as a way of officially uniting their houses and sealing the marriage bond. But the times after had been painful and cold, the mere act was to make a baby and not make love. The screams of her aunt's pleasure when Lord Petyr had made love to her sometimes haunted Sansa's dreams after she had lain stiff and still under Tyrion. She did not cry out in pleasure, though the act itself was not entirely horrid. Tyrion knew what he was doing, though she did help him in pleasuring herself, she wanted him to spill his seed and let her be.

"No, Sansa, I mean will you fuck me and will you let me fuck you?" His breath was hot on the skin between the corner of her jaw and her neck.

"My lord, have I not pleased you?" She asked.

"Not when you call me 'my lord' when I am atop you, as a courtesy and nothing more." Tyrion's hands were still around her neck.

"My lord," Sansa cried. "Do not hold me in such a way." Her eyes were watering in tears once more.

"Sansa?" Tyrion asked in concern. "I made sure not to hold hard."

"He grabbed me that way, when he…when he tried to force himself upon me. He…he wanted to rape me." Sansa shivered.

"Who did, Sansa?"

"Lord Baelish!" Sansa cried out in tears. "Lord Royce interrupted him, sending a dagger through his heart. But he…he made me turn around and he…."

"Oh, Sansa," Tyrion let go of her neck immediately. "We have buried our demons so deep that they will not allow us to have happiness with one another."

"I cannot lie with you, Tyrion, when you are behind me. It reminds me too much of his cruel hands and his…his body slumping over my back, the blood seeping down my bared legs."

"Sansa," Tyrion reached forward. "Oh, my love. I only fuck you from where you do not have to look at me. You do not have to see my face that will haunt your memories."

"Please, if you are going to love me, please let me see you. Let me know that you are not going to be cruel to me." Sansa closed her blue eyes.

"I will not force you, Sansa, to lay with me again. It seems we both have bad memories with the act. Perhaps it is time we allow the Lannister name to die." Tyrion replied.

"What if we…what if we could make it better?" Sansa asked.

"By fucking?"

"Maybe we could find ways to make us forget?" Sansa opened her blue eyes to look up into his green ones. "Perhaps we could overcome our fears. We cannot remain childless, Tyrion, I could not bear it."

"And I wish to make you happy, Sansa. I know how to make your happy, let me allow you some joyful memory of the act."

"Oh, I am so scared," Sansa replied.

"But are you still hungry?"

"No," Sansa replied. "I am not, I never was."

"We could start now, we could start to show each other the right way." Tyrion looked towards her. Sansa felt her stomach turn with bile.

"I do not think that…" She was silenced when his mouth crashed down onto hers. She kissed him deeply, his tongue pushing against her pink lips for entrance, she quickly granted it.

Tyrion kissed her until she was light headed and pink cheeked, he had kissed her like she had never been kissed before. And he was grabbing her clothed breast in his hand, kneading the skin underneath.

"Perhaps we should go the bed, Sansa?" Tyrion asked. Sansa nodded her head, pulling away from him and standing, brushing the tears from her cheeks. She pushed her chair in, leaving the table to enter the room next door where the bed the two shared nightly lay.

She began undoing the strings of her dress, pulling at the garment to free her body from the enclosure. She wanted to help him undress her, to make it easier and less awkward.

"Stop, Sansa," Tyrion commanded her, as he followed behind. She immediately let go of her dress, walking more quickly to the bed.

She sat down, not sure of what to do next since laying would certainly not help in removing the dress from her body. It was not long before Tyrion's weight on the bed signaled his closeness, and his hands were eagerly on her shoulders, pulling away the garments. Sansa froze as she could feel him pulling her clothes from her shoulders, her memories of Lord Baelish trying parts to ravage her flooded her mind. She began to cry again.

"Sansa?" Tyrion stopped, concern ringing in his voice.

"I cannot," Sansa replied, standing once again and pulling herself from his grip. "He pulled the clothes from my body and—"

"Then stand before me and pull away your own clothes, Sansa." Tyrion commanded. Sansa looked at him with a shocked look.

"Go on," He sat on the bed, and she noticed that he wore only a long shirt and his trousers, which were now being pushed down to his ankles with his small clothes.

"I…I am not sure how to do this…"

"Just take your clothes off," Tyrion's voice was stern, but still comforting. He was trying to help her.

"If my lord…my husband insists." Sansa pushed the dress slowly from her body, unsure in her movements. She could feel her breasts fall free, and then her stomach was bear. She heard Tyrion grunt.

When she looked up her cheeks reddened. Tyrion was watching her, his cock in his hand and he was stroking it slowly.

"I…" Sansa spoke, letting her dress fall the rest of the way.

"I do not mean to make you blush, Sansa." Tyrion let go of his cock, ushering the same hand out towards her. "Come, my beautiful wife, and let me love you."

Sansa took a step forward, her body chilly in the cool night air as she made her way back to the bed. She sat down next to him, wondering if he wanted her to touch his manhood. The man's cock had been in her several times before, breaking her maidenhead, but she had never gotten a good look at it.

"It will not hurt you," Tyrion laughed, taking his springy member in hand when he noticed Sansa staring at it. The comment made her flush further. "I will not force you to touch me. But I, Sansa, I wish to touch you."

He took her forearm, making his way toward the middle of the bed and gently pulling her with him. She flipped over to her hands and knees, crawling to the center of the mattress with him.

"Turn over, my love," Tyrion commanded, leaning down to kiss Sansa's mouth. Sansa obeyed and Tyrion came to her side. His feet faced her as he sat at her hip. "You are so beautiful, Sansa." He said, admiring her body. Sansa could not help but smile. "You are the maiden fair and graceful," his hand was running up her thigh and making her body shudder. The sensation was causing her to wet between her legs.

Tyrion's hand soon slide up to the part where her legs joined, his fingers gently running through her coarse woman's hair. He tugged ever so gently her and there, causing Sansa's body to respond with excitement. He then gently slipped his thumb between the slit at the front of her body, his digit running down lower to where he normally put his cock. She could feel him moving in circles down below, and it was not long before he returned to the top of her sex, touching and stroking one particularly delightful area. Sansa shuddered and let out a small gasp.

"My lady certainly likes it there," Tyrion replied, his pointer finger soon joining to rub her faster and harder, she felt her knees buckle upwards against her will. Tyrion's fingers quickly left the area and Sansa had not realized that she was trembling.

"Tyrion?" She asked, looking down at him. He was shifting so that his head was toward her now, his mouth kissing the bottom of her ribcage. She felt her tummy flip in delight as she realized he was making his way to her breasts.

That was the one joy which Tyrion gave her when he had sex with her. He made sure to knead her breasts in his hands as he thrusted. While the movement brought back bad memories to Sansa, her body quite enjoyed having her breasts so roughly treated. She particularly enjoyed when he ghosted his fingertips over her nipples, occasionally squeezing. Sansa reddened at the thought which entered her mind; she was not meant to enjoy sex, she was meant to lie there and become pregnant.

"What has entered your thoughts, my love?" Tyrion asked as he looked up at her. Sansa looked away. Tyrion kissed her hard nipple lightly, and Sansa automatically gasped. Tyrion laughed. "Ahhh, so I have found your weakness. You did let out small groans when I grabbed your teats before." Tyrion placed another kiss on the pebbled nipple. "My lady loves her tits sucked."

He placed his mouth over her breast and Sansa gasped as he began to toy with her nipple and dark patch of breast with his tongue. She groaned as he sucked sharply, and his other hand reached up to massage her other breast. Those fingers were slick and wet and they caused Sansa's nipple to chill, making the tip more erect in the colder air. Sansa groaned as Tyrion flicked and sucked on her breast.

He let go of the breast before long and switched his sucking to the one he had been toying with his fingers, his hand traveling downward past her hips again. He found the pleasurable spot she had and began to rub it, Sansa let out a whimper. The feeling of whatever Tyrion was doing below and the suckling of her breast was causing her head to spin. She was shaking as the burning feeling in her stomach was building. She had experienced the pleasurable pain before, but never this greatly. Tyrion let go of her nipple to grin at her as she threw her head back into the pillow.

"You are able to experience joy in this, my lady." Tyrion replied as he moved his circles faster and tighter. Sansa was soon crying out as spasms took over her body, she straightened on the bed. Tyrion took to kissing her breasts again.

Sansa looked down at him, her body tingling with whatever he had just done to her. She could feel his member pressing into her side, impossibly hard and thick. She felt a sudden urge to have him inside of her, a desire she had never had before.

"Please," she squeaked.

"Please, what?" Tyrion let go of her breast and lazily returned his hand to kneading the nipple.

"Please…be with me, Tyrion," she whispered. Tyrion's green eyes focused on hers and she could see a small smile grace the side of her mouth.

"I would love to, Sansa." She was glad that he knew what she wanted, instead of making her explain in greater detail.

He rocked forward to grab hold of her mouth with his lips, kissing her deeply. He then returned to her hips, parting her legs and positioning himself between them. She sat up on her elbows, watching him as he grabbed hold of himself and entered her, slowly at first and then all together quickly. Sansa gasped as he pulled away and thrust deeply into her. She reached for him, placing her hands on his shoulders. Tyrion smiled at her as he pushed himself up closer to her body, kissing her breasts again.

He moved his hips in and out of her, causing Sansa to lie back on the bed. Tyrion draped his upper body over her as he kissed her chest and her nipples. He grabbed for Sansa's hands as he pushed hard and faster into her. Sansa held tightly as the building returned, his body hitting her sensitive spot.

"Sansa," he groaned, pulling her upwards. She felt him shift himself onto his rear, his legs going underneath her and her legs splaying out to either side of him. Sansa could feel him deeper in her pelvis.

She let out a groan and grabbed ahold of one of his shoulders, her other going behind her to balance her out. Tyrion was pushing as best he could into her, but Sansa could feel the burn fade. She began to move forward on him, his manhood sliding in and out of her better. She tilted her head back, her mouth letting out involuntary groans.

His hand soon reached down to add his body in stimulating her. "Tyrion!" She cried in surprise.

"I won't last much longer, Sansa," Tyrion confessed. His touch on her place became more fervent.

She cried his name loudly as she reached a much more powerful high with the help of his manhood and his thumb; she clung to him with both arms wrapped around the back of his neck. Tyrion kissed her breasts softly as her womanhood hugged him. He pushed gently into her a couple more times before she could feel hot wetness filling her, a sign that he had reached his end.

"Sansa," he whispered. Sansa leaned down, her hands enveloping his cheeks, one palm feeling the rough scar that marred his skin. "Kiss me,"

Sansa complied, kissing him roughly. Tyrion reached around her and grabbed fistfuls of hair, kissing her hard and tugging her hair. Sansa could taste the wine on his mouth, and she slowly was pushed backwards onto her back as he kissed her, his manhood pulling from her body and resting wetly on the top of her hips. He kissed her even harder, his hands tangled in her hair.

"Please fuck me like that again," Tyrion whispered into her ear. Sansa closed her eyes.

It would not change her circumstances; it would not make her return to Winterfell. But she had to admit that he made her happy.

And after the war, that was all she needed.


End file.
